Hunt for Avada kedavra
by Pheonice Dutch
Summary: Due to circumstances Harry and Draco are forced to make an allianceship. Hunting for Avada Kedevra they end up in a web of emotions, secrets and choices. Then there also are the Horcruxes and the fact that a Malfoy’s never to be trusted…
1. Chapter 1

_summary: Due to circumstances Harry and Draco are forced to make an allianceship. Hunting for Avada Kedevra they end up in a web of emotions, secrets and choices. Then there also are the Horcruxes and the fact that a Malfoy's never to be trusted…_

**Prologue, Avada**

It was pitch-black dark all around him, safe for one bundle of light shimmering upon his hand. He played with it a bit, imaginary catching the light and releasing it, a miniature cat and mouse game. The bundle was small, fragile, and almost seem to wrinkle on its own trying to escape the brief capture of Harry's hand.

Harry wasn't afraid. The situation he found himself in was so absolutely surrealistic it _had _to be a dream. He couldn't feel anything, not a single hint of wind brushing trough his hair, not the pressure on the flat side of his foot when he stepped aside, not even his own touch when he pinched himself. Well, didn't he say so, definitely a dream.

The light was now little more to the left, had it moved? Or had Harry? He followed the course of the light, trying to see where it was coming from, or where it was going to. But on either end it just seemed to disappear.

Usually Harry felt vulnerable when he knew he was dreaming. In his experience dreams were never as innocent as they seem to be, not with the connection between him and Voldemort. Not being able to control or close his mind off, he was a open target at nights. But now the feeling was different. Like the darkness around him was some sort of protecting cocoon.

And then there was this curious light he had suddenly noticed a moment ago.

Harry bend down to examine it from up-close at eye level. He stuck his hand in again, but in lack of response quickly pulled it back.

Harry frowned to nobody but himself, he was acting reckless. Even if this was a dream, something could happen. For all he knew this was just another trap. A trick of Voldemort to keep him preoccupied while invading the deepest corners of his soul. While attacking Grimmauld place and Harry wasn't awake to alarm anyone. Though it didn't felt so wrong at all.

The conscious part of Harry wanted desperately to wake up. Now. But sadly in this world his unconscious part was ruler and master.

Besides, the light didn't actually look that evil. If any, it might even look gentle of nature.

Okay, now he was definitely loosing it, or at least his unconscious was.

As quick as his sudden suspicion had erupted, as fast it was gone already. Acting upon a instinct Harry blew through the light. It wavered right before his eyes, as if it was being tickled.

Harry blew again, the same effect occurred. The greenish light shook a bit, as is it was laughing by the sudden touch of wind he blew in it's direction.

Pretty certain he was stuck in a good heartily Twighlight Zone, Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this place?" he wondered out loud.

As a response he got the scare of his life.

As soon as the words left his lips he felt a movement from behind. Before he could have turned he felt a soft blow of wind, right on the sensitive spot behind his ear. Ticklish.

Alarmed and instantly on edge, because of the soft tremble rushed through his spine when he felt someone (something?) blowing behind his ear, he spun around.

Nothing.

Confused Harry stared at the darkness. Dreams shouldn't feel so real. If he had imagined it, then why had it felt like someone was actually standing behind him?

His breathing had sped up, and he took on a defensive posture, no wand on him only his worn out trousers and t-shirt. Figures he still was in his dream, otherwise he would have worn his pajama's he put on that evening, right? It was still just a dream, right?

Although the contact had seemed so realistic, hadn't it? Musing over this, but being alarmed at the same time, trying to cover every side of him not to miss a hint of anyone's presence, he got his breathing under control again.

When out of the blue he felt it again. Somebody else was there, right behind him at a very uncomfortable short distance. And a small blow behind his ear, making him filch slightly because of the tickle, but faster than he could get a glance of him, it was gone before Harry had turned around, again.

Ok. No problem. Stay calm, close your eyes, and get the hell out of here. Wake up…wake up! He tried but did not succeed. When he opened his eyes he still was in the empty, but somehow seemingly full darkness.

The curious light had dropped to ankle high level now.

Crunching down to it, Harry did the only thing that got a reaction before, and drew out the gulp of air he had taken in. He blew not so gently trough the light and he could swear he saw a flinch of reaction from the light , not unlike he had given himself mere seconds ago, Twitching away when being tickled. Ok, so the blowing tickled the light too eh?

Then acting on an impulse, he started to softly whistle towards the light.

For a moment he could only imagine how stupid he was acting. Whistling the melody of one of Ms. Weasley's favorite songs into some alien green light, trying to do what exactly? Entertain…communicate? But then he got distracted by the distant sound of a small giggle. He stopped whistling and pointed his ears sort of speak. Only as soon as he didn't whistled anymore the giggle seemed to be gone too.

He definitely had heard it though. And putting this together with the suspicion there had been someone else there moments ago, harry knew he wasn't alone anymore. Or had never had been at all.

Surprisingly, even now he wasn't afraid. He only didn't like the fact he seemed to be out of control in his own dreamland. Though this wasn't Voldemort's doing, he just knew. But what he didn't know was who it was he was dealing with then. Harry decided to voice this thought.

"Who are you?"

Nothing, not a single sound. Not even the light gave a purr of recognition.

"Tell me who are you?" he demanded now more strongly. "I know your there, are you real? Or are you some sort of twist of my imagination?... What is it you want?..."

Harry paused for a second, not even thinking he had a chance getting any answer, but just collecting his own thoughts. It sure didn't help asking a bunch of random questions, but what else was there to ask? He knew nothing.

"Listen, here is the deal, I haven't got the slightest idea what to do right now. We can play catch-me-if-you-can for all night now until I wake up, but somehow I believe that wouldn't be so productive. And I'm not going to chase you around like some Alice in wonderland chasing a white rabbit…not sure if you know that muggle story, but anyway, I don't know what to do. What is it that you want of me?"

Now a response came, the light seem to grow brighter, or at least the darkness around it intensified, and the aura pressed more on him than before. Not anything to get wiser from, really.

"Please, tell me, who are you?" Harry repeated and looked at the now trough out green light.

Somehow he couldn't concentrate long on it, his vision clouded over, his sentence seem to fade out and in again.

The light seemed be trying to tell him something, beaming in the way it did, but at the same time Harry felt himself being pulled away from it.

He was being woken.

Desperately to stay he called out again," Who are you?!"

Then the grinning face of his best friend hovered over him.

---888---

"Ughrm, Ron! I was having a dream." He pointed out, moody, to the red head he shared his bedroom with.

"Oh, same one as always?" Ron asked concerned, "really mate, I don't think it's healthy to obsess about it like that."

This only worsened Harry's mood. "No not the same as always, and besides, I'm not obsessing 'bout that." There. End of discussion.

He somehow regretted telling his friend about the returning nightmare of his parents dying. Not that Ron wouldn't have known there was something wrong with him, he practically screamed himself awake half of the nights. Sharing a room together really learns you about each other's habits. It hadn't even been the returning nightmare this time. And Ron meant well…

It wasn't really fair of him to snap at Ron like that, and Harry was well aware of that, so he gave Ron a slight apologetic smile on their way to breakfast, being responded with a dismissive shrug.

The true reason of his foul mood was the dream itself. Or more precisely, the thing Harry faintly had heard when he was being waked.

Sirius had taken Harry aside, at the beginning of the vacation, to ensure him to absolutely, always come to him, when there was something bothering him. Thereby he had also warned Harry not to trust any of his dreams. The Order had recently discovered the great expense of the bond between Voldemort and himself, how far the connection went, right to the middle of the minds and even more the souls.

Dumbledore had told Harry about the prophecy, that he was none less than the Chosen One. Goody, how ensuring. The headmaster had explained the blood protection Lilly had given her son, and how Voldemort had taken precautions against that when he had risen at the end of the fourth year. When he had killed Cedric, because of him, because of the bloody Chosen One, him.

Dumbledore also had persisted Harry learned something called _occlumency_, whatever that may be, to protect him from _legilimency_, again, whatever that may be. He hadn't bothered explaining it to Harry, it would become clear when the lessons would begin he had said, but he did had pointed out how crucial it was for Harry to tell them about any sort of strange dream concerning Voldemort.

Now, this had been a strange dream.

Strange was even an understatement. Walking down the stairs with Ron he wondered if he hadn't gone completely bonkers. But the dream had been so real. He had been so sure it was real, and most of all, that it was important.

But then again, it didn't really concern Voldemort.

He smirked when imagining the conversation between him and Sirius.

"_Sirius, can I tell you something?"_

"_Sure you can, pup"_

"_Last night I had this strange dream, some girl was blowing in my ear. At least I think it was a girl, I didn't really saw her, so it's sort of a guess on the gender really. What do you think it means?"_

"_Well Harry, it sounds like you're a bit sexual frustrated…"_

See, now that would be horribly disastrous. Not that Sirius would ever put it like that, but still he would definitely reconsider his godsons sanity, wouldn't he? As if it wasn't enough he had seen Harry completely break down after The Triwizards Tournament. And with the prophecy and the resent dementors attack at Little Whining, he sure must think he's mentally disturbed, kind of a freak.

Harry had tried to prove to his godfather he was completely sane and not be a bother at all, ever since he came to Grimmauld place. It worked, Sirius hadn't shown any sign of rejection towards him, and he and Remus had even been positively interested in him and his ways. So let's not spoil that with crazy talk about crazy dreams. Not about the nightmares and certainly not about this particular dream.

Not even with what he had heard when he was woken.

Slumping down a chair at the kitchen table, grunting his good mornings to Hermione he began eating his cereal. Two loud cracks announced the arrival of the twins, with earned them kitchen duty from their mom. Harry laughed at their antics, but was not paying complete attention to the others.

Moment after Sirius emerged the kitchen, smiling upon seeing so many people inside it. He really was a mornings person, and being free for a year now has done him good. He looked younger, prettier, stronger, all with all more alive than one year back when they had separated ways, by Sirius running from the minister on the back of Buckbeak. But that was history now, the ministry still was looking for him, but Sirius wasn't on the run anymore. He was settled, although it was at his parents old house, got better and cheerfull.

"Morning Harry, what's up, you look disturbed?" He friendly asked Harry

_Mentally_ disturbed Harry corrected him inside his head. But he smiled up to Sirius, deciding then and there that his dream wasn't anything.

_Suddenly realising he had only seconds left to ask before wakening or never finding out. "Who are you?!" he had called quickly, not wanting to leave, but feeling his consciousness taking over._

_He woke up. It was when he had opened his eyes he had heard the answer echoing._

"_Avada"_

"I'm fine Sirius" He answered him.

---888---  
_  
That was the prologue people, I hope it wasn't to vague, but I had to make it a little since the dream had to be vague.  
I'm kind of new here, and looking for a beta, could someone tell me where to find one?_

_Preview for next chapter:_

"_I can't" Draco grunted while ducking in reflexes._

"_You can't?" Snape replied, settling for a good angle to aim a shot, " You say you can't, and yet I saw you running in a demonic speed towards the Quidditch pitch this very morning. Care to explain the details of the randomness in your capability to run?" Snape's mouth was slightly lifted in a somewhat smile._

_Well like I said, I'm new, so don't shy on the criticism, I will only take it by heart. English isn't my native language, so it might be that I'm typing really strange things now and then.  
Kisses,  
Pheonice Dutch_


	2. Chapter 2

**No Slytherin loyalty**

Bright sunlight shined trough large windows of Malfoy Manor into a large room that used to be a second ballroom for smaller parties. Now the dance floor was being used as a training ground, the tables piled on the sides, and at that exact time being used as a improvised hideout for Draco.

Not for long tough, from the corner of his eyes Draco saw a dark figure moving, faster than expected and he only had a mere second to jump up and run in the other the direction. The curse flew over his head but missed. Barely.

"Move," a direct order echoed through the room, the first word said in a long time. Silent curses had been flying trough the room for over a hour now, but apart from the rhythmic running pace of Draco's footsteps, and the occasionally 'thump' hinting a quick duck, there had been no sound.

Never the less, it was a fierce duel, or in lack of spell casting from Draco's side, a hard run. Other trainings had been rough, but were a trip to the beach in comparison to the work-out Snape was giving him today. He had been running from start when Snape had opened the lesson with a particular nasty stung spell.

"Move faster." A yellow spray of light hunted the young man to the other side of the room.

"Faster Draco," Snape ordered while sending another two cutting spells directed at his pupils head, receiving a annoyed huff in return.

"I can't" Draco grunted while ducking in reflexes.

"You can't?" Snape replied, settling for a good angle to aim a shot, " You say you can't, and yet I saw you running in a demonic speed towards the Quidditch pitch this very morning. Care to explain the details of the randomness in your capability to run?" Snape's mouth was slightly lifted in a somewhat smile.

Draco snickered, "Okay, I can, but I won't."

"And may I ask why?" Snape gently asked in contrast with the blast of wind that whirled to Draco, he had flicked his wand with all the easy in the world, producing a strong magic wind that could wipe the other off his feet any day.

But Draco only lamely stepped aside for it, and didn't even paid attention to the sound of breaking glass where the curse had hit a decorative mirror. "Because, professor, I don't have to."

Snape raised his eyebrow a bit. "Well, than you must have learned every blockade against every spell I will cast your way while you were hiding behind the sofa three minutes ago, I must say I'm impressed, it took me six days to control the counter of the _bombastic _only, but if you think you're ready…" He sarcastically replied to Draco.

"Of course not… sir" Draco added quickly, not wanting to seem disrespectful towards his teacher.

"Then how's that you figured out you won't have to, defying the odds are we?" Snape questioned.

"Because you wouldn't really hit me," Draco cheerfully retorted. Then he stepped in front of Snape's wand in a playful provoking way. "Would you?" he asked.

Snape annoyed lowered his wand. "No I wouldn't really hit you Draco," he paused, "but your father will scalp us both if he finds we're not taking you _training _serious."

"My father is an oaf," Draco murmured softly, but Snape heard.

"I strongly recommend to not let him hear that, you would be surprised how little appreciation oafs have towards foul mouths, not even when those mouths are telling the truth," Snape told him.

Draco grinned, only Snape could reprimand him and agree at the same time. In times like these, when it was summer and Draco was forced to be in the Manor all three months, his head of house really was a welcome guest. He even was the only one who seemed to understand Draco at most times.

"He would _scalp_ us? What you couldn't come up with anything more morbid?" He asked the Slytherin's head.

"I most definitely can, but I wouldn't want 'the oaf' to catch any of that either." Snape counter produced. "Lesson's over today child, go to the dining room, your mother wanted to speak with you. Same drills tomorrow, be on time." And with that the older man left immediately, not waiting for a goodbye, hurrying to the floo.

---888---

In the diner room his mother was already waiting for him, her long blond locks were contrasting strongly with the dark interior of the room. Black marble floors were answered by black velvet curtains, that hung heavily from the ceiling to the grounds.

When Draco entered the room his mother rushed towards him, taking him into a strong hug. Quickly but smiling he shrugged his mother off of him, " please mother… I'm not a five-year old."

"No you certainly aren't anymore, sweetheart" She softly replied him. "Now, please give me a hand with the decorations please, I can't get the glass roses far enough up the wall, and doing it with magic somehow always makes it look less pretty."

Draco looked at the fine glass bouquet spread out on the table. Glass formed by magic resembling many roses. "You made these?" he asked.  
"Yes I did, Charms always have been my favorites, now could you hand me one of those please? This need to be done before dinner, your father has an important meeting here tonight."

"Then I will be up in my room" Draco knew that would be expected of him.

Working together making the diner look as close to perfect as it could get, Draco's mind started to drift off. Thinking about last year's school, the events with the goblet of fire, the mysterious ways of his father, overhearing some conversations, learning a thing or two about the dark lords plans. And of course the returning.

His father had been burning with exhilaration the day the dark lord should return, but something had gone wrong. Draco had known by the way his father had acted the entire summer, his constant mood swings, being on edge every minute. And then there had been the rather surprising escape Potter had seemed to made out of the labyrinth at the end of the tournament, dragging that dead Hufflepuf with him, looking like he had gone through hell and back.

It was pretty easy to put one and two together, the dark lord had returned, but hadn't succeeded killing the wonder boy. It was a right out disgrace that the ministry couldn't have figured that one out themselves, but then again, Draco never had been one to put his Galleons on the ministry to come up with something clever.

"When you were young I use to say your face would stick the way it was if you kept up the frowning, but I guess that one doesn't work anymore, since I believe your 'not a five-year old' anymore, does it?" His mothers gentle way of speaking stirred him out of his musings.

"I was just thinking" he murmured.

"Knut for your thought?" Narcissa pretended to bargain while striking him trough his hair.

"Mom, can I ask you something?" Draco began a bit unsure after a couple seconds of silence.

His mother looked at him, nudging it was fine. "You can always ask me anything dear."

"Anything?" he wasn't sure this was a good idea, but now he had begun, he better just proceed.

Narsicca gave him a short wink."Anything you want to know, I keep no secrets from you sweetheart."

"How do you know if you love someone?"

The question made Narcissa rise her eyebrows at her son, laughing warmly at him. "Is my sweetheart in love?" she asked Draco, making him turn away slightly in embarrassment.

" No… no that's not what I meant, I mean, it's not about love-love, but just about love in general"

"Are there different loves nowadays? You young ones really are a curious lot, but to answer your question, I think you just know if you do love someone… regardless what kind of love" she said the last part in a semi-mocking way, making her son smile a bit.

"Why do you love dad?" Draco questioned

"I don't have an answer to that sweetheart, I just do, very much in fact," his mother told him and sat herself down at the table, shifting the candleholder, "to the left or to the right?"

"To the right," he responded automatically before he continued the discussion, "I don't know if I love him anymore."

If mother signed deeply, but when she turned towards his there still was a sad smile round her lips. "Sweetheart, your dad has been difficult the last days, I know that, but it's not his fault, he works real hard to keep the family name high, soon this will be over, I promise dear," she reassured him.

"Would you hate me for it, if I don't love him?" Draco directed shyly at her, not really wanting to hear that question being answered.

"My my, what a questions you've got, but no, I would never hate you sweetheart. Nor would your father, he loves you dearly," she stated as if it was daily news. "Now, is there any other urgent thing on your mind dear, or was it only my confirm of love until eternity for you that you where curious about? she teased him.

"I applied for Muggle Studies," he deadpanned. It hadn't been his plan to tell her until school would start but he couldn't keep this one from her.

For a moment Narcissa looked at her son like he had grown a second head, but then she seemed to get herself together. "Well, I'm not sure what to say about that. I don't agree with it, that first, and you sure aren't taking one step into that class at all. Wait until you father hears about this, I honestly can't see why you would do such a thing."

Draco knew exactly why he had done such a thing. He knew that taking the subject would defy his father's ways more than any word out of his mouth could accomplice. And besides that, his father couldn't stop that, the only one who could keep him from it was Dumbledore, and Draco had the suspicion the old sentimental man would just love this development.

Still, that didn't mean his mothers disapproval was nothing. "Mother, please, I just want… I don't really know what I actually want, but I don't want what dad wants… I, you.. could you please not tell him until school starts?"  
He looked up to his mother who had stood up from the table heading her way to Lucius to break the news. "Draco, you know I don't want to keep secrets from your father, and frankly I'm beginning to be tired of your constant battling with him, he's your father sweetheart, he knows what's best for you."

"Don't you ever have secret's from him then?"

At this his mother had the decency to turn a light color of red before fixing her eyes at the wall. "MaybeIdohavesome" she babbled fast not meeting her son's eyes.

"Excuse me, I didn't catch that?" he said amused.

Narcissa huffed annoyed and then pointed her finger at the chair. "Sit down," she ordered before taking a seat herself bending to her son in a conspiracy kind of way.

Draco way very curious about his mothers behavior, but went along with it, wanting to hear what she would had to say.

"Alright, I do have a secret yes, not really important I must say, but as it is of some sort of relevance to this…" she trailed off.

Draco prodded her to contignue when it looked like she was about to stop and diside it was better not to tell afterall.

"Alright, alright, let see, where to begin…" she paused a moment, "well first of all, I wasn't that much of a good student I must admit. My grades usually where pretty low, only in charms I seemed to be any good, but the worst of all was without a doubt Potions. I always received D's for it, quite embarrassing, and my teacher professor Slughorn, he had his favorites and I definitely wasn't one of them."

She looked with a frown thinking about that particular teacher before continuing with the story. "Now the thing was, I officially would fail my fourth year, because of the bad grades, and the only way I could go to the fifth was if I would get a E for my Potions."

Here she stopped, her cheeks going to a bright red. Draco wanted to hear the rest of the story, he always had thought his parents were top students, but in a second thought, he only had his father ever hear speaking about his school performances, he automatically had figured his mothers was the same.

Summing some more courage his mother started again. "Logically I could never get a E on my own, so I asked Severus, who was in my year, for extra tutoring. He accepted with ease, only he said he had one condition. See, Severus was the second best student in Potions, and he had a study mate ever since the beginning of the first year. She was the best in Potions. So that's why I didn't object when he said that she would be there too when we would study."

"Why's that such a secret, surely father knows you didn't do that well with Potions? Draco asked confused.

"Yes, sure he knows, I can't exactly keep that a secret from him, even a simple shampoo draught I can't work out on my own, but that's not the thing I never told," she answered him, "The girl Severus was talking about was a Gryffindor, she and Severus knew each other from their childhoods, like you and Blaise, her name was Lily Evans. If it hadn't been for her I would have never make it to the fifth year."

"Evans… that sounds familiar, do we know a Evans family?"

Narcissa looked at her son contemplating something. "No she was muggleborn."

Ok, Draco could get that she didn't want to tell his dad she had needed help of a muggleborn, that would be quite a scandal in both the Malfoy as the Black households.

"That was only the beginning I must say, after that year I took weekly tutoring with both Severus as with Evans. But, it wasn't enough. In my seventh year it became clear I needed another optional subject, to compensate my bad grades, otherwise I would only have passed Charms, and two subjects was the minimum. So I…" here she trailed again, mumbling the last few words.

"Didn't catch that last, sorry" Draco said extremely curious.

"I took Muggle studies in my exams. And I was actually good at it too, with some more help of Evans who filled in the blanks. So I passed my exams with a A for Muggle studies and a E for Charms," she exclaimed a bit triumphantic. "Of course I couldn't tell your father, or my own parents for that either, but still I was good at all the muggle stuff. The electricity, and telephone thingies, their silly fashions…do you know that in Scotland men wear women's skirts?"

Draco grinned, "so we have a deal? Sworn secrecy of Muggle studies?"

"I shouldn't approve of your provocation towards your father," Narcissa sighed. Then she held up her pinky, "to sworn secrecy."

Draco hooked his pink in, "sworn secrecy."

The boy stood up from the table to head for his room, only to be called back again by his mother.

"And Draco? No more swearing secrets or submitting lies please."

He nodded to her and left the room. If only she knew about his plans…

---888---

Draco was crunched at the kitchen window, listening into the conversation in the next room. His fathers _business _meeting was indeed an important one. His partners even had gotten in dress code. Long hoods and masks covering their faces, but Draco knew enough of them to recognize their identities only by voice.

"I say we hunt him down now, take him from his home, torture and murder him, why wait?" a heavy voice of Nott sounded over the other conversations, silencing them all.

"Yes, what an ingenious idea," Draco heard Snape's voice sarcastically replying, "that would most definitely work, how clever, why haven't we tried that ever ourselves? There's just no ending to your brilliance is their? Thank you for sharing your epiphany to the rest of us."

Draco smiled silently, his professor seemed to have a little fun at his own. But his father's clear voice alarmed Draco to get a move on, he wouldn't want to get caught.

"What Severus is saying, very colorful I must add, is that it is impossible to trace him now. So we can't hunt him down, for we don't know his location. Sadly we need to let him go just for now… But that's not the point for this meeting. The lord has requested something. He wants to know every detail of the traitorous Black, he has great interest in every bit of information about him. I remind you about the fact that the lord thinks this is a pressing matter, we must see this as a priority."

The rest of the conversation went passed Draco, for he didn't listen anymore. He had planned out his runaway very carefully and now wasn't the time to let his curiosity kill his plans. Besides, he had heard the name Black fallen a lot of times, he presumed they talked about that Sirius guy, the murder that had excaped Azkaban two years ago, he had found out something important, and then died before _the Lord_, could have gotten to him.

Draco couldn't care less, if any, he thought that the Black had been very cunning, dying before Voldemort could kill him. No his biggest concern now was not getting spotted while climbing out of the window. It was only a five meter run before he would reach the planted bushed an get cover out of them while heading to the wards.

Three days ago, he had had an enormous fight with his father. It had resolved in a magical outburst, that his mother had ended by unweapon them both with a _experilliamus_ spell. In the end his father had demanded to know on which side Draco was on.

And there lied the problem, he hadn't known. He surely wasn't on Dumbledore's side, forever kissing the joys of love and peace, with the Potter mascot to follow. But was he with his father side? He use to be.

But it had changed. He use to think that purebloods were powerful, respectful, successful like his father, very much unlike the poor muggleborns that went to his school. Take that Granger for example. No pride or grace in her. No knowledge of etiquettes, magic uses, even though she irritatingly wanted to know everything. It was pathetic.

But then the visits of some questionable figured started to occur. First of all, the rat. Now there was no grace or power attached to that man. Draco had only seen a dumb coward. Also ponderous people as Avery and Nott had come by more and more, then the meetings had started.

His father started to travel to places, making alliances with disgraceful figures as werewolves, trying to bargain with trolls. His mother had been visiting his crazy aunt Bellatrix Lestrange more and more.

These were people Draco despised. There was no excuse to their ugliness, their robust behavior. Comparing to Lestrange, Granger seemed the bride to be.

Locked in his room as a punishment Draco had came to a conclusion, he would never be on that side. So where did that leave him?

Right at this point. Running away. He quietly climbed down the window, letting himself lower down on the grass. No one would ever make a servant out of him, a death eater. The more Draco had found out about their ways, the more he was repulsed.

Flashing a glance at the lightened room where the meeting was occurring, Draco slowly made himself ready to make a run. The shadows of the clocked men spread out over the grass, almost resembling a drawn picture of dementors on the perfect lawn, he had seen them while visiting his aunt with his mother.

That had been another clue for him, every time a dementors had come close Draco was being reminded by his father's hard words. _One day you will be the Lords greatest servant Draco –the beauty in killing lies in the creativity of the implementation_ –_a crusio preformed perfectly comes from the heart- power is what a Malfoy's right is. _So scaring words, told to him his whole life.

And now he didn't believe them anymore.

Seconds ticked by during his contemplations, it would be now or never, so he should just get a going to it. He had left his mother a note, putted in her jewel box.

_forever love, I'm sorry_  
_Draco_

He counted down from ten to one and made a wild sprint to the bushes. Not waiting to see if he had been detected he walked to the wards. Safety spells protected the Manor from anyone to get in, but Draco only needed to get out, so he just crossed them without a problem. Now he was on the other side, his side.


	3. Chapter 3

_Another chapter here, this is the last one I have already written, the rest still is in the development stage, or non existing stage, so from now on the updates will be less fast,hope you like it.__**  
**_**  
Impossible possibilities**

A muffled scream emerged from his lips, to soft to be heard above the rumbling thunder in the far distant. Rain had started to fall down in thick drops, making a rhythmic sound on the hidden windows of Grimmauld Place.

Harry had been trashing around for hours now, captured between heavy nightmares and a shimmering unconscious state of mind. He looked white as the sheets he lay on, one might think he's stuck in a fever dream if it wasn't for the occasionally small words that you would hear, implying something else.

"No" his voice crocked out, sounding small and pathetic. There was nothing that could prevent what was coming.

Like minutes ago, Harry began to shiver uncontrollably, shaking his head sideways in pain. Whatever the boy was dreaming, it was horrifying to watch.

Outside a flash of light brightened the room for a couple of seconds, but Harry never noticed it, in his mind the only flashes he could see where green and more deadly than a lightning bolt could ever be.

A loud grasp of shock got stuck in his throat, as he walked along a corridor, stepping over a body on the way, heading for the small nutrition room on the first floor. The same route he had walked for hours strait now, to eventually come to his destiny, reaching his goal.

Killing his mother.

Voldemort's memories were his memories. And he felt as delighted as the dark lord had when he finally spoke the last words…

"…Avada Kedevra"

Soft but strongly spoken, like it wasn't anything at all. So easily he took his own mothers life. He killed her, she died protecting him, but it would be useless. He loved the twisted feeling of satisfaction, leaving a real taste of blood on his tong where he had bitten fiercely.

Than the sickening realization would kick in, faster than a bullet to the heart. He had killed. He had taken a life. His mother's life.

He could still see her fall, once the dream began to chance back into the cold landscape that lay before him. Godric's Hollow was covered in a small white blanket of snow. He would walk down the lane, slowly, sure of himself, to go and do what he was doing all night.

Harry panted heavily and lay dead still in his bed while he was reliving memories that weren't his. It hurt to know the way to his old home so well, only through the eyes of a murderer. He knew exactly how the neighbors child had run away from the approaching man that Harry was that moment. Faces of people he never had met, but saw every night.

How familiar the sound of the burning fire in the living room had become to him.  
The feeling of stepping over his father's body, never looking down at him.

"…Avada Kedevra"

The sick joy that he felt only for seconds before panic would take over once more.

"No…" A plead for it to end.

His mother's shining red hair and green eyes that haunted him. Was the intense green color hers, or the reflection of approaching dead?

"…Avada Kedevra"

It ripped him apart to see his father standing brave, the knowledge of a young death already sunken in. Accepted but not defeated yet, no that would take a couple seconds more.

Harry had the urge to step over the third step of the stairs, it shrieked under the weight of his footsteps, but he wasn't in control this night.

Like all other nights he was only there to watch, to feel, but never change.

The green flash was always blinding, sometimes for ages, often already over before it truly had started. The power of death captured in light, released for a mere second. Time didn't matter when you're stuck in a dream of the past.

"… Avada Kedevra"

---888---

"Harry you look absolutely exhausted, are you okay?"

Harry sighed. "I'm fine Hermione, just had some trouble sleeping I guess," he told her with a tired smile. Last night had been terrible, he had woken up at the earliest hour, but frankly had been to scarred to go back into bed to try and catch some more sleep.

He had gotten used to the dream of his parents dying. But somehow they started to get more persistent every night. Today he had washed the taste of iron out of his mouth, his teeth had cut through his tong somewhere during his nightmare. But he hadn't noticed it until he was fully dressed.

Last night had seemed even more real, more vile, not only a shadow of a past slaughtering. To feel the movements and actually hearing his mothers scream coming from his own mouth was terrifying.

The scream, that was the most disturbing piece of the whole night. After his own throat had become to soar the produce any sound at all he still had heard it ringing in his ears. Eventually it would stop, eventually he would be back on his parents porch and the whole event would start over again. But the scream never faded.

That was something that never happened before.

Sometimes it would echo through his spine, making him twitch or shiver, but it always faded before it started again. Last night he hadn't got any rest. The scream never stopped even when he was starting to wake up.

He had made some sort of peace with his dreams long time ago. Recognizing the fairs, the sickening feeling. But now the dreams where changing?

The continue alertness was costing him. Exhausting was hovering on the doorsteps, but Harry refused to go sleep so soon. He wasn't ready to face new demons yet.

Now he was sitting at breakfast, fighting yawns back and trying to act not as drained as he felt. His little act was however not convincing enough to fool Hermione. Sometimes he wished she was a little less observing, it would make it so much easier to lie.

"I don't think your fine at all, you do look terrible, no offend," Hermione tried again.

"None taken," Harry murmured around some egg in his mouth, at least he could eat, that was a plus. The nauseating feeling he had stood up with was now gone.

"You would tell us if something was wrong, wouldn't you? You are okay, right?" She pushed a little further, not even a little satisfied with the one word answers she got from him. Well tough luck, it was all he could managed at this point. To sit up, look awake and focus on what was said. To actually have a conversation was a whole other deal.

"I'm fine…" He accentuated the word 'fine' a little as a hint to let the subject drop. His eyes were currently stinging heavily and were pretty much dominating his further thoughts.

"You don't look fine." She stated in a demanding tone, if Harry didn't knew she was a Granger, he could have sworn he sat across Molly Weasley's daughter.

"Of course he's not fine, he's probably tired to dead because of you nagging his ears off." Harry felt a moment a bit sorry for Hermione, after all she meant well, but thank god for Ron!

His best friend sat at the opposite side of the table, his plate stocked with food that could make a orphanage happy for a month strait. Not even aware of the striking glare he got hit by, coming from Hermione.

Harry rubbed his eyes once more, the stinging began to change in a non stopping burning feeling.

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but decided different. Opening and closing her mouth several times she finally rested with shifting nervously on her seat.

"Oh spit it out already before you're going to explode!" Ron finally released her.

"Well you don't have to take your bad mood out on me Ronald," she spitted back

"I don't have a bad mood, you.." Ron started but was effectively cut short by Hermione talking strait trough him.

"You should try '_Occulus non Somnia'_ it's a anti-hangover spell," Hermione directed to Harry who was lost by the first word that she spoke.

Seeing his confusion Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a spell for burning eyes, made for people who skipped the night. It might help against the burning feeling."

Harry repeated the spell after Hermione showed him the right wand movement. It actually did help a little. He still felt like he was run over by a horse but he could keep his eyes open now.

"Thanks Hermione," he said sincerely, what earned him a soft smile from her. "How come you always know these sort of things? Like there's a spell for everything."

"Hmm, I dare to say there is a spell for everything. Maybe we just don't know them yet. There are new spells being invented every day, never mention the spells we forgot long time ago. The ancient magic for example, now that's interesting magic, seemingly boundless. Think about the possibilities! But in my opinion knowledge spells still are the most useful, what's power without the wisdom to handle it? Or strength, yes don't forget strength. Magic doesn't obey to a wandering mind, does it? Most certainly strength is important too." Hermione ranted on.

Ron gave a long moan and started to shake his head. "I really wasn't prepared for a lecture Hermione, remember it's still the holidays? I personally like the fact I don't have school." But the comment lacked the strength it should have, he didn't really minded Hermione being so, well, like Hermione. She often could rant on a bit, but most times it actually was kind of fun learning these thing.

Harry contemplated her words. _There's probably a spell for everything_. What a disturbing thought. Then again, there was already a spell for death, what could be worse?

He had tried not to think about the weird dream, of the ticklish light, 'the _Avada'_, as he had labeled the dream in lack of any better term.

Harry never had taught about the Killing curse in such a way before. Hermione said spells were made, how did one make death? Can you even create death?

Come to think of it, when was the curse ever 'made'? He couldn't remember hearing about a time when Avada Kedevra didn't existed. Tough that might be because of the lack of interest he had shown in History of magic. He also couldn't remember a single fact about the Goblin wars, sure enough they had gone over that topic many times.

"Harry what's wrong?" Hermione squeaked.

"Uhgh, are you really starting that again? I thought we all already have agreed that Harry is in fact fine…" Ron answered for Harry.

Hermione shushed Ron, who quieted down after another fierce full glance from her.

"Harry is something up? You look… weird." She asked again.

Pulled out of his musings he waved Hermione away. "Yes fine.. uhm, going to the library now… just thinking.. uhm yeah..tell Sirius will you?…bye." He left preoccupied by his taught and sleep shortage, leaving a confused looking Ron and a disturbed looking Hermione behind.

---888---

Buried in a pile of books and loose pieces of parchment laying round him, Harry was franticly searching for his latest note.

"I swear I had it here a minute ago," he whispered to nobody but himself.

Since he had started to look for anything on the topic of creating curses, or information about Avada Kedevra self, several hours had already past. How longer he searched, the more questions he came across.

Luckily for him the Black library was very resourceful when you where looking for any kind of dark arts information. He couldn't imagine Madame Pomfrey approve students to go and look for death curses that easily. Even if they had a book in the restricted section, it probably wasn't as detailed as some of the ones he found at Grimmauld place.

'_How to make a howler spit? And more pirate tricks_, by Desiderius Brightman.'

'_Venomous wines, a dangerous delicacy_, by Gret Spinners."

If he wasn't that determent to find something (anything!) about it, he had been scared off by the cruel pictures and rather creative explanations about torture and murder.

Looking over the rugs of the books for titles that hinted to be useful, he never heard light footsteps enter the room. Just when he reached out to grab one old book, titled _The most violent curses, a guide_, a small cough caught his attention.

"You might not want to take that one," Sirius spoke to him warmly.

Harry looked at his godfather, standing halfway in the room, with a questioning expression on his face. He however didn't ask Harry about the mess, which was quite present in the cramped library.

Sirius walked a couple steps closer to Harry, stopping next to him after a quick stroke trough his hair. Harry smiled with the brief contact, it was strange to suddenly have someone care in a most casual way, like it always had been the two of them, except for the fact that it hadn't.

"Why shouldn't I take this one?" Harry said pointing to the book he had put his eye on earlier. It looked promising.

"It's a rather rude book," Sirius explained, "see the author wasn't that interested in magical curses, he was more known for his shamelessly swearing."

_The most violent curses, a guide, _Harry read it a second time, this book taught you how to swear?

"Oh, right, I thought he meant real curses. Not just verbal ones. The way it says _violent_." He shrugged and starting to scan the rest of the shelf.

"Well my ancestor was pretty violent in his speech, I think he knew best how to hurt people with his forked tong, certainly his magic wasn't powerful enough. One must take his best quality's in strike I guess." Sirius chuckled.

"He was your ancestor?" Harry grinned at Sirius, defiantly liking the small chitchat between the two of them. Even if it involved the dark colored history of the Black family, it took his mind of the scream that was still fresh in his mind.

"Yes, from my mother side, and if you listen to her portrait in the hallway you might say swearing never was considered a bad quality in her family," he answered Harry.

"What are you looking for anyway, little one?" he added after that.

"Hmm, about curses, where they come from, stuff like that," Harry was weighting the decision to tell his godfather about his vivid nightmares or to keep quiet about his new found obsession with the Killing curse. Sure that wouldn't look normal for a boy his age.

He decided not to tell, maybe later, when he needed help looking. But for know he wasn't sure what he was looking for himself, all and all, better to stay quiet about it.

"Where curses come from, eh? That's some advanced magic you're talking about. Let me see, how to start…" Sirius frowned a in deep taught, Harry almost laughs at the uncharacteristic behavior Sirius was showing. Though it was kind of endearing seeing him struggle for the right answer.

"Oh bugger, you couldn't just ask where baby's come from, could you?" he exclaimed deeply frowning. "I've prepared The Talk already. Not this kind of stuff, it's more Remus area I think. You see Harry, magic is ancient, lot's of the ins and outs we simply don't know. So anything we do know about the fundamentals of magic, are based on some crazy theories, that aren't proven at all," he explained slowly, so that he wouldn't lose his student right at the beginning of his lecture.

Harry nodded, he understood, magic was old and only bearded bats as Dumbledore had a guess about how it worked. Made sense so far.

Sirius walked to the grand table in the middle of the library, shoving away some books and taking a seat, gesturing to Harry to do the same.

"We do know for a fact that magic is older than wizards, than even the human being. The most basic theory of where magic finds his source is the very first part where it starts to get complicated."Sirius rested for a second, gathering his thoughts.

"You know what a miracle is? A miracle is a mistake in nature, a mistake in chance. When something is impossible to happen, because of the everlasting rules of nature, and it does happen, it's a mistake. This causes friction. See it as a big cloud of impossibility's where suddenly a spark of possibility finds it way in. There's no place for this possibility to stay, nature has a strict order to live by, so they start to press each other away. A thing can hardly be impossible and possible at the same time, can it? So there's this friction, that causes a sudden explosion of energy when one wins over the other. That energy, that's what we call magic."

Sirius smiled over at Harry clearly enjoying the dumbstruck facial expression of his godson. Harry wrinkled his nose, looking more lost by the minute.

"Wait maybe if I show you…" Sirius stands up, taking a few steps to have a clear space around him. "I'm here and around me there's this energy. This energy holds the possibility to make the impossible possible. Wizards can tap in to this energy, this magic we call it, and bent it for their own purposes. For example I can make gravity," he pointed at the chair he had left and levitated it into the air with a flick of his wand, "lose his grip on things."

He lowered the chair but wasn't ready.

"I also can make light out of darkness, _Lumos_, and I can disappear, _plop, _and appear, _plop_, from spot to spot. These thing shouldn't be, but they are." Sirius watched Harry with expectation, hoping he would get it.

"I kind of see what you mean, I think. I still don't get how exactly it all works, but that's sort of the whole deal isn't it, that there isn't a logical way of approaching this, because magic bends natures logic?" He tried to satisfy Sirius, showing he really did paid attention.

Sirius walked back to him, ruffling his hair once more and pulling him into a hug. "I think you get it right, but don't break your head about it, little one." He said releasing Harry from his embrace. "Why do you want to know anyways?"

Harry smiled he had totally forgotten about his nightmares the last half hour. In a way his searching had worked, he had been too preoccupied to feel the distress he had felt that morning. His tiredness had gone too, but now it started to come back.

"I wanted to know where Avada Kedavra came from, it just occurred to me that I didn't know. Then it wouldn't get out of my mind, so I kept searching."

Harry considered to drop the whole subject, leaving this advanced stuff be. But there was something truly wrong in the way the scream had sounded last night. It leaved him on edge, something was happening but he couldn't grasp what.

He waited for a yawn to pass and then added, "Isn't there someone specialized in that curse, surely someone knows more about it?"

Sirius shook his head to him, signing deeply.

"Harry, I hate to bring you the bad news, but you are probably the most specialized person when it comes to the Killing curse," Sirius told him. "It's impossible to research it and not getting killed."

Harry was more than a little put out by that, but before he could protest they were called out by Molly Weasley.

"Harry? Harry?! Oh there you are dear, it's dinnertime, you to Sirius," she said from the doorway and promptly turned around leaving the men alone, gone as fast as she had burst in.

The two of them looked at each other, gave a smile and then silently made their way to the kitchens.

---888---

Harry had walked up the steps, reaching the floor where Sirius's room was. Calmly heading to the door he suddenly was taken by a cold breeze coming from his right. Immediately on edge Harry turned his head in that direction.

What he saw was a door to a second room, strange because Harry couldn't remember ever noticing it before. What even stranger was, was the distant sound of a voice coming from the room.

Harry reached for the doorknob, only then seeing the nameplate sealed on in.

_Regulus Black_

Sirius's brother? Maybe he shouldn't go in here, Sirius would definitely hate him for breaking in his private rooms. He already had to share his house with his godson, and he never spoke about his brother, so certainly it was off limits.

But technically it wasn't _his_ room.

Slowly he turned the doorknob and peeked inside. It was sort of nice, if you like green and silver. The room was almost a screaming advertisement for Slytherin, but stylish none the less. By the nightstand was a small hunched figure, spitting out the most shabby words Harry had ever heard.

Kreacher.

Ok, back up, silently, maybe the elf hadn't seen him. He took a step back in the hallway, pulling the door close behind him, letting out his breath he apparently had been holding in.

"Harry?"

Harry froze up in record speed hearing his godfather's voice.

"Sorry, didn't want to startle you little one, what are you doing over there?" Sirius walked towards him resting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry looked at the right again, as if the door would give him a way out of this situation. Sirius's gaze followed his, and only then seemed to realize they were standing by his brothers room.

"Regulus," he whispered and a dark look fell over his face.

"I'm so sorry Sirius, I didn't mean to pry, I heard a noise and before I know it I was in the room and Kreacher was there, so I backed immediately," he began to apologies.

Sirius now looked even more saddened shaking his head lightly.

"Why do you keep doing that pup?" He said softly.

"Don't know, I-I'm only curious… I don't mean to make you cross with me" Harry frantically explained. He really had ruined it now.

"No not _that, _oh pup I'm not going to be mad at you because you walk into a room." Sirius signed. "I mean the constant apologies! It's like you're on edge every time I walk into the room and it's even worse when we talk, you think I'm going to be mad at you for the most silliest things imaginable. I hate to see you so hurt every time I startle you! Why's that?" He called rather loudly in frustration.

"I'm sorry," Harry stepped back a little.

"No, no no, please Harry, this is exactly what I mean," Sirius closed the gap between them taking Harry's head in his hands. "are you afraid of me or something?"

Harry had stiffened at the close contact Sirius gave, but frowned at the words. _Afraid?_ "I'm not afraid," he stated a bit bedazzled.

"So I imagine the fact you just went stiff as a plank because of my touch?" Sirius asked him.

"Sirius, I'm not afraid of you, really," Harry softly spoke "I'm just not good at this."

"And may I ask what this 'this' is?" Sirius locked eyes with him.

"This!" Harry gestured wildly between him and his godfather. "This parental thing, the questions, living with you, I somehow screw up every time you're around."

"Ah, that,' Sirius looked a bit put off, "well, that makes two of us."

"Eh what?" Harry said simply confused.

Sirius released his godson from his grip, once again signing, and letting his arms fall along his sides. "I don't know what to do either Harry, should I be stern with you or let you go your own way, should I be like Molly, with the food and all, Merlin knows I can't cook an egg properly, or do you even want me to take care? I really don't know, it looks like you could handle yourself fine without me before."

"I don't know either Sirius," Harry took over, " I don't know what I want. Its not like you're my friend, like Ron is, or that you're my parent or sort-"

"Gods no, I really am not made for parenthood," Sirius exclaimed by that.

"-but you're not like Remus or Dumbledore either… so that makes us, what?" Harry asked puzzled.

"I don't know, misfits?" Sirius tried, "I know I am."

Harry grinned, this is why he loved to be with Sirius so much. He always knew just the right thing to say, making everything more bearable, even the most awkward things.

"Yeah, we're pretty weird aren't we?" Harry smiled.

"Yes, do people also glare at you when you walk in the room, like you're some kind of criminal that has killed about thirteen people?" Sirius putted on a very big frown, stroking his non existing beard in a thoughtful manner.

"Hmm, they do stare, but that's more because I seem to be The-Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Die," Harry answered.

"Hmm, extraordinary indeed, we might just have to dwell some more over that in the present of a steaming cup of warm cocoa, what you say?" Sirius pointed at his room.

Harry chuckled lightly, the heavy mood from before fell away from him like a invisible cloak, "Sure, that's why I came up in the first place anyway."

"Well good thing you've located the Elf then, sure it is a drama if we need to make it ourselves." Sirius smiled back at him.

"With your cooking skills… it easily might be."

---888---

_That was it for today, I most curious to know how it turned out. The further we get in the story, the more action packed it will be, less talking and theory's. Was the spell theory a bit understandable, I really had a hard time explaining it.__ Still looking for a beta and don't forget to push that screaming little button down below, I know you want to review ;)_  
_  
preview for next chapter__  
_  
_Slowly licking his ice, he played with the coldness a bit in his mouth before swallowing it down, closing his eyes, letting slip out a moan, and then occasionally licking his lips after another bite…if he was going to play this role, he better do it right._


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello dears, another little piece, have fun with it._

**Not so similar!**

Diagon Ally was packed as always, busy workers, for who the day never seemed to end, summer shoppers with their carefree way of plundering trough the streets, and due to the summer al lot of foreign tourists. There were the overly known places, like Madam Malkin's, Eeylops Owl Emporium, Gringotts bank. And also the less known shops. Candy stores, grocery's, even a brand new fitnesscentrum –guaranteed Quidditch body!- and a place to buy the most recent theater tickets.

Then of course there was Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, the famous ice-cream palace, currently getting a lot of attention from by passers. Now that wasn't unusual for such a hot summer day, normally people would desirably look at the cold sweetness and be tempted to just buy one, for the heat's sake. No, attention for the shop at a day like this wasn't out of the ordinary at all.

What was unusual, what the fact that costumers, by passers and a little amount of audience wasn't cooled down at al. They were rather worked up, judging by the rising body heats and red blushes of most of them. Woman frantically weaving more air to their faces with hand pallets or some magazines, just to escape the intense warmth that was radiating from the Ice palace.

Sitting under one of the shadow providing sunbeams, Draco sat lazily watching the crowd of people walking by, like he had done all week. With his bright fair hair, lightened by the sun, incredibly pale skin for the time of the year, the bored out facial expression and exposed six-pack, he sprang out of the busy street even more than the most-wanted ice cream itself.

Catching all the feminine attention and even some of the guy's gazes of innocent visitors, helpless costumers, they really didn't know what would hit them, he continued to perform his little act.

He had placed himself seemingly casually right in the spotlights of the terrace, with a strawberry ice horn in his left hand, some soda standing on the table next to his right, he played to be ignorant to the stares he received. Slowly licking his ice, he played with the coldness a bit in his mouth before swallowing it down, closing his eyes, letting slip out a moan, and then occasionally licking his lips after another bite…if he was going to play this role, he better do it right.

Across the street two girls were standing, they were his first goal for today, both little bronze tanned, Indian maybe? He had them watching his _show_ for a quarter now and they seemed hypnotized by every move, just like he had wanted it. Taking another lick, he locked eyes with one of them, winking and giving an arrogant smirk.

The effect was immediate and light bolt crashing. She wobbled on her place, gripping her sisters(?) arm for support, turning red in a greater speed than the rapid blinking of her eyes. How easy this target was, now what about the sister? She seemed less dumbstruck by his gesture, was even cheeky enough to wink back at him.

Now every Slytherin likes a good challenge. Inviting her over with a shrug of his head, she came walking towards him, slowly, semi-in-control. He took her wrist before she good properly greet him, pulling her into his lap, placing his mouth to her ear, he whispered something in her ear.

Now she did have the luck to turn even redder than her sister had moments ago.

"Really?" She squeezed out unsure.

"No not really," he replied calmly, "but it was nice talking to you."

Shoving her off his lap he didn't even watch her leave back to the other side of the street. Gods, what a man has got to do when he's bored…

And bored he was, running away from home had been nerve wracking, exhausting and emotionally draining… at first. Now one and a half week later he had settled on Diagon Ally, renting a room at the Leaky Cauldron and this was the third day in a row he found himself settled in front of Florean's, getting enough attention to be satisfied for more than a lifetime.

Sure he missed his home, the rented room was decent, but nothing in comparison to his dorms in Malfoy Manor, and the food was just plane out gross. Somehow he had pictured his runaway a bit more action packed.

Most of the time he could easily walk on Diagon Ally without anyone recognizing him. In his casual close and ruffled hair, he didn't screamed out to be a Malfoy by looks anymore. Sometimes he had to duck in a store, hiding from somebusiness partners of his dad, or one time even one of the death eaters.

He had spotted Goyle, his classmate a few meters ahead of him, figuring out quickly that Goyle's parents must be close by, he had sprung into the first door he passed…that happened to be a lady's underwear store. Not wanting to go out that quick, he had been forced to buy something. Turns out red lace is quite expansive.

Then there was the money, frankly the reason why his getaway was so easily going, he still was loaded. Before his departure, he had requested Gringotts to open another account, a saving one, stocking half his money there and putting it on the name Draco Black, his mothers girlsname.

Guess the death eaters still hide low, recruiting, preparing a bloodstained war, discussing slaughter strategy's. Well, not his problem, was it? He was done with it. He would live his life, not participating any war, and when the whole bloodfiasco would be over, he would claim Malfoy's business empire as rightfully his, make some money. No harm in being ambitious.

Now what to do for the time being? It was too hot to _do_ anything, yet he was frustrated with doing nothing, so he was now willing to try anything. Like sexually provoking every skirt that walked by…

High alert! Long legs, nice miniskirt. Slink body, she seemed fit. Green top that contrasted strongly with her red hair…wait red hair?

Looking twice in the girls direction he spotted more red heads around her, like an invasion of gingerhaired.

Weasleys.

Oh ugh, he had been staring at the legs of a Weasel, Gilly or something, and more horror, he had liked what he saw. Surely he was coming down with something, heatstroke or what.

Draco took it as his cue to leave, standing up and quickly deserting the terrace, good thing he had already paid, he never noticed two people standing in his way before he bumped in to one of them.

"You!" He heard an all too familiar growl.

"Yes I, now piss off Potter, you're in my way," he swore viciously.

"You're such a spoiled brat," Potter replied with practiced ease.

"Rich coming from you cry baby, now get out of my way, go whine at somebody else."

"Insufferable git"

"Attention whore"

"Pathetic little-"

"That's enough of the two of you," Remus Lupin cut in, he was standing behind Harry now, prodding him to step aside to let Draco pass.

"Why thank you, _professor_…" Draco sarcastically directed to his former teacher, then striding in the direction of his room.

---888---

Now his day truthfully sucked. Going shopping, for crying out loud, for what had to be the three longest hours of the vacation, only to bump into no other than the Malfoy moron. Harry grunted lowly while being leaded to the direction of Weasleys by a persistent hand on his shoulder coming from Remus.

"Now none of that foul language Harry," his former teacher said.

Harry hissed some more, glad no one would actually know what he just said and how he got such a …colorful vocabulary.

"Not even in parselmouth," Remus grinned.

"But he _is_ a moron" Harry stated a bit put out by the lack of support, thinking that was a winning argument.

"Who is?" Harry turned to the direction Ginny's voice came from, only to be rendered speechless.

Her long dark red hair touched her shoulders lightly, her green top matching with her eyes perfectly. And her legs… they seem to go on endlessly beyond that short miniskirt… really nice long legs..

Wait! Hold up, he was totally checking her out. Ginny, as in Ginny Weasley, Ron's baby sister. He must be going nuts, it was the heat taking its toll on him...

Finally, having found his voice again, he answered her, "Malfoy."

"Oh," she looked at him sympathetic and then turned a little to Remus. "Harry has a fair point, he _is_ a moron."

Remus didn't respond to that, mainly because he was resorting himself to snicker at her comment, the girl really was the sharpest one in the family, and he hadn't have the heart to scold them anyway. But all that beside, it was very strange to see the young Malfoy heir all alone at Diagonally, sure Lucius would not approve of that. It made him curious, not that he had liked the boy when he had taught him, but he was after all still very young.

Sirius had decided he wanted to ritually burn Harry's old cloths, but therefore he first needed some new one. Ones that stayed on his 'skinny rear end', he had said.

So they had, Harry was particular thankful towards Remus when he had suggest everyone to split up, and that way they don't all have to wait for Harry to find and fit his new wardrobe. He really had felt uncomfortable when Hermione and Ms Weasley where holding up a pair of boxer in front of his cross, arguing whether it would be a perfect fit or not. Ron's supposed help, hadn't been welcome at all, pointing out he already had a few blue ones. And then they looked weird at _him_ for picking up a flamed one.

And now after the nice run in with Malfoy, he truly had had it with their shopping day.

"Can we go home now? Sirius probably want to see what I've bought," he suggested, not at all looking forward to show off his new wear, especially underwear, to even more people. Maybe he would ditch his boxers somewhere in his room quickly before, to safe himself for a second awkward analyze.

After they had gotten some ice-cream, they headed to the Leaky Cauldron to floo back to Grimmaulds. Harry going last was curiously looking around him, somewhat distracted by a group of woman eying him from the bar, so that he was kind of startled by his name being called.

He turned around to let Molly know he was coming, only to bump into Malfoy…again.

"You!"

"Seriously Potter, you need a new line, now if you would excuse me, I was on my way," the blond one replied snobbishly.

That was when Harry noticed the towel hanging around Malfoy's neck loosely and the unbuttoned shirt hanging open. If he didn't know better, he would say Malfoy was heading to a shower.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously, temporarily forgetting his own attitude towards the other. "Why are you heading to a shower here?"

"Because some people don't like filth as much as you do Potter," Malfoy snapped.

Harry huffed, but let that comment slide for this once. "Yes, but why here?"

Malfoy turned now fully back to Harry, eying him from head to toe. _He looks tired_. He thought a second, but didn't dare to give that any ground to settle. Meeting Potter twice a day was already an annoying development, but to actually give a damn, that was a total different matter. Besides caring didn't suit him.

"I shower here, because the shower in my room got jammed."

"And you live here?" Harry corked his eyebrow.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't."

They were back at snapping. It was so naturally for them, like a challenging tennis match, they didn't even think about the next move, words formed themselves.

A thick silence landed heavily between them.

"..."

"So do you live here?"

Malfoy let out a grunt of annoyance. Leave it to Potter to slam the fragile silence in million pieces. He rolled his eyes at him and turned away for the second time that day.

---888---

"Harry!" Molly Weasley exclaimed when he stepped out of the floo into Grimmaulds living room. "What took you so long? It was almost five minutes, have you any idea how worried we were! Dear Merlin, the things you put us trough…"

The rest of her words were lost to Harry when she pulled him into a hug, holding him like he was a lost puppy that finally had been found, and at the same time scolding him like he had stolen a cookie.

"I'm sorry miss Weasley, I didn't noticed the time…" He croaked out. It was only five minutes he thought, but he knew better than to voice that one out loud.

"So what happened mate?" Ron asked a soon as his mother had made some space and the rest was slowly dripping out of the livingroom, picking up their own things.

"Malfoy," Harry waved his hand dismissively, he didn't want to talk about the Slytherin even if it was kind of odd he was living at the Leaky Cauldron. He was pretty certain the boy did live there, even though he hadn't responded. His behavior, hanging around by the ice shop, no supervising, the fact he avoided answering questions… it all was too familiar. He too had been living at Diagonally's two summers ago, he too had needed to take the downstairs showers. But why would Ron care at all about Malfoy?

Merlin why did he _himself_ care?

"Well good your back quickly, I for one wouldn't want to tell Sirius we lost you, especially not now." Ron slammed his friend good heartedly on his back.

"How do you mean not now?" Harry was puzzled, but Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's lack of subtlety.

"Professor Snape is here," she told him, not responding to the face Harry pulled hearing Snape's name. "He's in the kitchen, discussing something-"

"probably bragging" Harry sneered.

"-with Sirius" she added.

"What? They're in the same room?...Without supervision?" He looked at her in horror.

"They're grown up men, Harry, I hardly think they need to be supervised... and no, they're not unsupervised. Mundungus Fletcher is with them"

"Mundungus! What you don't want to wait until the house gets torn down by Sirius and Snape, it's better to let someone rob it empty first?" Harry exclaimed at her while walking through the hall towards the kitchen doors.

"Dumbledore said it would be fine!" Hermione shrieked behind him, half running to keep up with his determined pace. "You can't go in Harry, it's a meeting!"

"A meeting? You said it was only Sirius and Snape?" He asked confused.

"And Mundungus! It is a meeting Harry, that's why Dumbledore told us not to interrupt, and then he pointed out Mundungus to…to supervise," she admitted a bit grumpy.

Harry let his hand hung loosely around the doorknob, not able to decide to enter and interrupt a _meeting_, or to back off, something he wasn't a great star in at all.

"Or you can do as we do, and extend your ear," the voice of Fred shook him out of his contemplation and he snapped his head up to the twins.

"He's just dying to know isn't he?" George nodded to Fred with a grin.

Harry grinned too, extendable ears, why hadn't he thought of that immediately. He and Ron run up the stairs where Fred and George already where stationed, only to be followed by a lingering Hermione.

"Oh come on 'Mione! I know you want to hear too." Ron motioned her to sit down beside him, sharing his 'ear' with her.

Harry noticed they looked sort of cute together that way before he plugged in his own ear.

"…have a deal then?" Snape's voice was filled with a bored tone, like it was a extreme difficulty to even be there at all. Harry gritted his teeth, he knew exactly how his least favorite professor was acting right now, probably giving Sirius a look of utter distaste.

"Why me?" Sirius cold words made Harry even more curious, what exactly where they discussing?

"He's your nephew."

"I don't think I qualify as a Black in their books Snape"

"No you certainly don't."

The quickly followed snaps where almost a exact replica to the ones Harry and Malfoy had been dealing out moments ago, only they were even more trained with years long rivalry.

"Do you promise to help my godson the best you can?" Sirius demanded.

"I will, if you will help mine," Snape's reply sounded low and heavy.

"Then we have a deal." The words were slowly spoken and probably with a lot of difficulty.

What were they talking about, why would he need help from Snape? Maybe it was that _occlumency _Dumbledore had mentioned...Who's Snape's godson? Harry wondered, but again he was pulled out of his thinking by the twins, prodding him to hoist up the ears.

As soon as the ears were putted away and the five of them hidden back out of side they saw the kitchen door open and Snape came striding out of the room.

---888---

That night Harry's dreams led him once again to his parents' home. He walked to the baby crib, hearing a woman's cry echoing against the walls, stepping over her dead body. He reached for his wand, forming words of the deadly curse in his head. If only he could stop it here…

"Avada K-"

A wave of darkness washed over, as soon as the blackness hit Voldemort he froze and time stopped. Harry felt himself leaving Voldemort's body, stepping beside the frozen form.

Stockstill he stood there watching his tormentors form fade in and out of blackness. His wand lifting up in a green light.

"Avada?" Harry whispered almost none hearable. He shivered looking at Voldemort standing stone still reaching for the crib, wand lifted a bit, so casual…

His breath got stuck in his troth, this wasn't how it's supposed to go. He relived Voldemort's memories, his feelings, his words, he was never in control.

"Avada?" he heard his own panicked voiced asking again, but he couldn't get his mind of the Dark lord standing there. His skin looked so white and as cold as stone, like marble, making his eyes spring out as two blood diamonds. He seemed so unbreakable, so unreal. Like a creature out of a child's nightmare. He couldn't believe he once had been so similar to Harry himself, only a orphan boy, small and broken.

Harry looked frantic trough the room. What was happening?!

"Avada! Please…" he didn't know what he was begging for, he just wanted this to stop. He didn't want to see this anymore. He tried to run away, but everywhere he moved the room resolved in darkness.

"Please stop!" He begged not to be be frozen in this moment, not when it hurts the most. Not while he was losing everything.

"Why are you doing this?" he mumbled into the dark.

"You told me to"

Harry's eyes went wide, the voice sounded almost unbearable clear.

"I-I don't understand, why are you showing me this?" his gaze went over Voldemort's face once again. Seeing the slightly open mouth formulating the Killing curse.

"I'm not, that's your memory," the voice came from close, steady spoken.

"Voldemort's"

"Voldemort's memory, your memory, not mine" the voice held no judgment, only faintly a hint of sadness in it.

Harry eyed the death scene in front of his. "I wanted it to stop, right there." He felt a light pressure on his shoulder, like a ghost hand without the cold. "What are you doing with me?"

"I stopped it"

"I don't understand! Please…" He felt the grip on his hand tighten, then it slowly pushed him towards Voldemort. He half struggled against the pressure, but somehow he knew it was useless.

"You wanted it to stop, and then you didn't want it to stop," he heard from behind, it was hard not to get mesmerized by the sadness in it. The next words sounded filled with remorse.

"I'm sorry"

And like that the blackness crumbled away and the hand gave a hard push in his back. Falling back into Voldemort's body felt like hitting a ice cold wall, momentarily leaving him with nothing but pain.

Only not long enough to miss the devastating pain of the reflecting curse. And then the killing started over again.

---888---

_I really had some trouble writing this chapter. I don't feel like it has a good flow to it, but I wanted it out already. Please let me know what you thought of it. I am a new writer, so I've got no idea what I do right or wrong. Btw is the length long enough, or too long?_

_I have written out some more, but nothing finished yet, now I would definitely want to know if you want some romance in it. There's space for it, it wouldn't mess up the plotline, and I'm kind of hanging towards romance in the later chapters. Let me know what you think ;)_

_Next chapter they finally get to Hogwarts. There some more action will be instead of only talking. But the talking stays too!!_

_Love,  
Pheonice  
_


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